


lonely hearts club band

by excelsior



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M, Implied Pairings, Stark banter, starks - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-26
Updated: 2013-12-26
Packaged: 2018-01-06 06:03:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,662
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1103278
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/excelsior/pseuds/excelsior
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's the start of a beautiful thing.</p>
            </blockquote>





	lonely hearts club band

**Author's Note:**

> do u ever just read the got books for the first time and have absolutely no idea what a goddamn emotional mess the whole thing was like- I am forced to write this happy stark fic for my sanity, I plead not guilty to overachieving creative freedom.

It starts on a dreary Thursday afternoon.

* * *

Classes have just ended and Sansa Stark muscles her way to her locker and dutifully sets everything set, making sure she brings her notebook in French (quiz tomorrow), deposits her Physics textbook and grabs the history report. She's still busy searching for a sock whose pair is already stuffed in her close-to-bursting messenger bag when she feels a hand on her shoulder.

"Sansa," She knows who it is before the speaker reaches the second syllable of her name- she's been hearing that voice her whole life. 

"Hi Robb!" She finishes stuffing her books into her locker and turns around to see Robb clad in his usual afternoon attire of a letterman jacket and jeans. Not surprisingly, Theon Greyjoy is right behind her brother although he  _is_  too busy typing on his phone to say anything. Just looks up and nods. "Can you wait for me in the parking lot?" She starts, not letting Robb speak. "I need to get this report to Mr. Lannister first and-"

"Sansa," Robb cuts, an apologetic look on his face. His eyes are a clear blue, just like hers. "I can't drive you home today. Theon and I are having a-"

"Foursome?" Arya Stark butts in. Sansa resists an urge to roll her eyes. Arya is fourteen, two years younger than her and three than Theon and Robb, but she is just as witty and foul-mouthed as the rest of them.  Her inappropriate comment makes Robb splutter and blush while Theon finally looks up and smirks.

"Yeah. Wanna make it five, she-wolf?" Normally Arya would beat the pulp out of any person who flirts with her shamelessly, but this is Theon and he's practically their brother and they're already used to his jokes and comments that would make the god of porn blush.

Arya grins and flips her messy brown hair. "I would love to, Greyjoy but I'm having my own affair tonight, thank you very much."

Sansa is annoyed. She still has to pass that report to Mr. Lannister and has no time for Arya and Theon's overly sexual banter, which they call The Stark Show (ugh). She's about to snap at them but Robb beats her to the punch.

"With who?" His voice is equal parts angry, protective and concerned. "And no, Arya.” He says, looking at her darkly. “We are not having a foursome. We're having burgers with Jeyne and Jeyne."

This time Sansa speaks up. "Did you two date them on purpose?" Because God, having girlfriends that have the same name is exactly the sort of thing Robb and his blonde man-whore of a friend (aka Theon) would do to solidify their bromance. 

"No," Theon says, his voice oozing 'duh'. "I'm dating Jeyne because have you seen her ass? Goddamn those orbs-"

Sansa wants to weep. She does not need a description of her best friend's butt coming from his almost-brother's filthy mouth. Thankfully, Robb cuts him and switches the topic back to Arya. "With who, Arya?"

Arya grins again, her gray eyes shining with mischief. "Aegon Targaryen!"

"The foreign exchange student with the blue hair?" Robb asks. Arya nods and Robb's auburn eyebrows, identical to Sansa's, knits tightly. "Why would you? He has  _blue_ hair for fuck's sake!"

Sansa stays quiet but is impressed. She has seen the foreign exchange student only in passing and despite his odd choice of hair color, he was very handsome and had gorgeous purple eyes. Still, she sided with Robb. He did have blue hair, which meant he was either incredibly independent, overly artistic or a freak. Sansa rolled her eyes. Any of those gave legit reason for Arya to like him.

" _Really_  , Arya? You'll date Marge Simpson but not me?" Theon whines then lifts his shirt up. "I mean, how could you resist this?" He says, gesturing to his four-pack. Sansa rolls her eyes again (she still needs to pass that goddamn report) but Arya only observes quietly.

And then, "Aegon has six."

Robb is livid. "How would you know?!"

"He sent me nudes!" Arya’s grinning still, and the corner of her lips are practically high-fiving her ears and Sansa can't figure out if she's joking or not. Robb is practically foaming at the mouth, but Arya is already running down the hall. "I'll be home before dinner!" 

Theon tosses her something wrapped in foil. "No glove, no love she-wolf!"

Arya catches it and salutes the trio before exiting the school. Sansa wants to rub her temples- she has just wasted some precious minutes listening to the Stark Show (really, she thinks, they should just make it a sitcom).

"Goddamn Targaryen sleeping with my sister. She's only thirteen for God's sake!" Robb mutters darkly and Sansa wants to slap him. And Theon. And Arya. All three of them, at the same time if she can. Bashing their heads together, yes, that sounds good.

"Gods, can we please go back to the topic?" She says and already Theon's looking bored, once again pressing the keys on his phone. Robb finally manages a hold on himself and blinks twice as if to come back to the present.

"Sorry, Sansa." He says, his mouth in a hard line. "But Arya and Aegon-"

"Don't kill yourself over it Robb." She says, rolling her eyes for the nth time since the bell rang half an hour ago. "Arya's just joking." She says. To reassure herself or Robb, she doesn't know. Behind him though, Theon is waggling his eyebrows.

"You're probably right..." Robb sighs and then smiles. "We need to get going Sansa. Sorry we can't drive you,"

She shakes her head. "That's fine, I'll just grab a ride with Jon then." Jon Targaryen is their cousin, the same age as Robb and Theon although much more demure. He's pretty much a Stark, since he's lived with them his whole life. Sansa loves Jon, but hates riding anywhere with him. His car is unbearably cold since he says that humidity makes his hair frizzy. On some days Sansa swears he's worse than Theon- at least his car has reasonable temperature.

Theon shakes his head. "Pantene-licious is currently with fiery redhead-" "Her name is Ygritte, Theon." Says Sansa. He ignores this. "Gesundheit, whatever. They left as soon as the bell rang. Probably at it like rabbits by now," he shrugs as if this was common news. And then to Robb, he says, "We need to get going Robb."

He nods. "See you later, Sansa!"

"Bye lemon cakes!" Theon says in a sing-song voice, and he practically drags him out the door. 

"Bye!" She calls out and just so she feels included in the witty, sexual Stark Show, she adds, "don't get anyone pregnant!"

She sees Theon giving her two-thumbs up.

* * *

 She drops the report by Mr. Lannister's room and ends up staying for half an hour as they trade fresh gossip that's been milling about St. Brandon's Academy. Tyrion Lannister is by far the coolest teacher Sansa knows. He's incredibly tiny due to some growth defects (sucks to be him), but it's the only thing about him that isn't larger than life (at this Sansa winces because she realizes it's such a great opportunity for an overtly sexual joke and god, Theon is really rubbing off on her). 

"Is it true Arya's dating the foreign exchange student?" He asks his voice that is gruffy yet has a lilt, as if he's always ready either drop a quote or crack a joke. Sansa is not disappointed. After she nods, Tyrion says, "Ah. He reminds me of a proverb I once heard,"

"What was it?" She asks. Outside, she sees clouds turning from a sad gray to an angry black. A storm, most likely.

"Colored hair, secrets bear." Tyrion pronounces. Sansa laughs and calls it silly, which Tyrion says is a step more polite than Arya who busted here during free period, heard the quote and called it "shitty."

After that they discuss a lot of stuff including (but not pertained to): Theon's latest sexcapade ("I heard it was a  _boy_ this time!"); his brother Jaime Lannister's potential girlfriends ("I think he likes Brienne Tarth, but then again she did smash a bottle against his head last month,); and  whether Margaery Tyrell's purple bruises are hickeys or a hit from Joffrey ("My nephew is the devil's spawn! Honestly.")

It's almost five when she finally leaves, full of Tyrion's wisdom and a fair share of gossip to tell Jeyne Poole tomorrow night. Sansa makes sure to exhaust every rumor to the last possible degree, just to ensure Jeyne can't edge a word about her having sex with Theon tonight. 

The thought brings up the banter earlier on and Sansa fumes once more. "What a horndog!"

"Sorry?" A voice says from behind her. Sansa almost jumps out of her skin. 

"Uh, not you." She says, feeling very shy. She makes a mental note to kick Theon in the balls next time she sees him, no matter how Arya-like the action is. 

"That's good to know," he was tall, Sansa noted, with brown hair and kind green eyes. He had a limp, though and Sansa immediately recognizes him.

"Willas, right?" He nods and smiles and she can feel some sort of warmth radiating off him and goddamn, this feels so cliché, she wants to throw up.

"Later, Stark." Is all he says before limping out the door, leaving Sansa confused and blushing. Nobody ever called her Stark before. There were just too many of them in this school, but Willas says it different. Like she's the only Stark, the only one that matters anyway.

_Ugh. Hormones._

* * *

That night, she skips the episode of the Stark Show and searches Willas Tyrell on Facebook instead.

* * *

"So," Robb's at her locker again with Theon. Sansa forgoes the slapping thing and focuses on punching them instead. It seems like her locker (combination 3-43-24) has become the filming place for the Stark Show.

"Let me guess, you can't drive me again?" She deadpans, staring into Robb's eyes. He looks sad and tries the puppy-dog eyes, but he isn't nearly as good as pulling it off as Jon. 

Apparently Theon agrees.

"Quit it, Robb." Theon says. Robb's the only Stark without a nickname- Sansa's lemon cakes, Arya's she-wolf, Rickon's wildling, Jon's Pantene-licious and Bran's monk- a testament to their friendship. "Jon's way better at that than you,"

"Way better than Robb at what?" Jon says, popping up out of nowhere with Arya in tow. What is up with her family and their ability to pop out of nowhere?

"Being a girl." Theon shrugs with a smirk. "Anyway, lemon cakes, we can't drive you home tonight."

"Why?" Sansa asks, turning her back to grab her english notes. Arya's jumping up and down, her arm raised. 

"Oooh, I know!" She says like a kindergarten pupil. She turns to Robb innocently. "Fucking Jeyne again?"

Theon smirks. "Fucking Aegon again?"

"You're sleeping with my half-brother?" Jon looks at her in disgust. Then to Theon, "And Sansa's best friend?"

They both nod then Theon goes, "Well you're fucking someone that looks like a human torch so-"

Robb looks at them both like he's planning homicide. Sansa knows the feeling. "Enough!" He says, sounding so much like their father (it's ridiculous) that they all shut up. "Yes, Sansa, we can't drive you home tonight. No, Arya, I'm not sleeping with Jeyne tonight-" "Tomorrow, then?" Arya asks. Robb ignores her. "We can't drive you Sansa since I promised to drive the guys to the new barbecue place tonight."

"And," Jon wheedles in, flipping his hair to the side. Theon snorts and she can feel a momentary pang of jealously. No matter how much her mother brushes her hair, it isn't anywhere as shiny as Jon's tresses. "Arya and I," he casts a hard look at Arya who has the decency to blush. "Are going to dinner with Ygritte."

Sansa knows that Arya is his favorite Stark child. If Jon wants his girlfriend to meet her, it's serious. She exchanges a look with Robb and she knows he knows.

"Oh, torch girl." Theon nods then grins. "I'm liking her already Pantene-licious! I mean, I already have a nickname for her!"

"You're such a dick, Theon." Sansa remarks then sighs. "Okay, looks like I'm going home alone. Again."

"I'll make it up to you, I swear!" Robb says, looking pretty apologetic. "How about I do your chores tomorrow?" 

Theon smirks. "That's so seventh grade, Robb. I'll let Sansa join on a threesome with me and Jeyne!" He volunteers.

Before Sansa could react, Arya butts in. "Sansa won't be alone! She's with Willas now," she exclaims in a good imitation of seventh-grader-in-love.

"What?!" Robb looks at her in horror as if Sansa too is dating a blue-haired foreign exchange student or having sex with Mr.-I-fuck-anything-with-a-pulse.

"I am not!" Sansa says, her face turning the same color as her hair. "I don't even like Willas!"

Arya grins evilly. "Well how come you were searching him on Facebook last night?"

Jon looks at her curiously. "How do you know that?"

"Bran saw the history," she shrugged. Sansa added her genius brother to the list of people she wants to hit with Thor's hammer.

"Nothing is going on, I swear!" She protests, huffing indignantly. Theon grins and rubs his hands together.

"As much as I would love to hear all the juicy details of blushing virgin finally getting some action here, we have to go Robb." And in that moment, she has never felt more thankful to Theon and his annoying perverted tendencies.

"Yeahyoushouldgo," she says and practically pushes them out on their way. "Bye!"

Robb turns around and stares her down. "We'll talk later." 

And they are gone, but not before a foil package is pressed into her hand. "No glove, no love!" Theon says.

"No love so no need for glove!" She chucks the foil package back to Theon and he slips it into his pocket with a grin.

Sansa watches them till they turn the corner before turning around to say goodbye to Jon and Arya, who are now having a heated discussion about Arya's sex life.

_Ew._

"His hair is  _blue_ Arya!" Jon whines, tugging on his own. Once more, his fab hair makes Sansa green with envy.

Arya stomps her sneakers on the floor. "Well sorry not everyone can have hair as fabuluous as you!" Their identical gray eyes are narrowed, although Arya's is from amusement while Jon's is in horror. "Besides, not _all_ of his hair is blue." She says in a suggestive tone, with a Theon-like waggle of her eyebrows. 

Jon recoils and Sansa laughs out loud. "Arya, none of us want to know what color his hair down below is, okay? Now you two, go. Torch is waiting for you,"

Jon looks at her as if she's suddenly grown two heads. "You know, sometimes I worry about how much influence Theon has over us."

She grimaces, the image of Jeyne and Theon having sex with  _her_ in the background milling in her head. "Me too."

* * *

That afternoon, the dreariness from Thursday finally breaks free, resulting in a violent thunderstorm that occurs while Sansa is walking home.

Alone (courtesy of her annoying brother, sister, cousin and almost-brother).

With no umbrella (Rickon's wolf chewed it to pieces last week).

And no cellphone (Jeyne Poole has managed to drain its battery just by taking pictures of herself for one whole period).

Still the rain pelts on, and she has hardly walked a meter since it started and she is shivering to death and if she doesn't get out of this storm soon she's pretty sure she's going to die and-

_Honk!_

"Hey, Stark!" And Sansa knows that voice. Knows it since yesterday afternoon when he said her surname for the first time and she has since been replaying that sound over and over again till she fell asleep. 

"Willas," she turns around and there, in all his glory is Willas Tyrell. Snug and dry in a comfy-looking Range Rover.

"What are you doing in the rain?" He shouts over the loud slap of rain hitting the pavement. Sansa wants to chuck him. The violent tendencies are really distracting, she thinks. She blames Rickon. 

"Waiting for Ryan Gosling to kiss me senseless. What do you think I'm doing?" She says, half-screaming and doesn't even wait for an invitation as she jerks his car open and sits, soaking the chair with sweat and rain water.

Willas doesn't freak out like she thinks he would. "Why are you staring at me?" He asks, though not unkindly.

"You're not freaking out over the fact that I'm basically a walking dishrag who's soaking your car," she says and when he still looks clueless, she adds, "It's just, when any of us spill even a drop of water in Grey Wind-" Sansa starts before Willas cuts her off.

"Who's Grey Wind?" He asks. Sansa blushes like she always does whenever she explains about her brother and his whole 'naming-his-car' thing. Sure lots of people do it, but at least they have  _normal_ names. Nothing as dorky as Grey Wind.

"Robb's mustang." She answers and Willas raises his eyebrow, amused. "So anyway, whenever we'd spill something, he goes all crazy and kicks us out. One time, Theon had to carry me home on his back because I sprained my foot and Robb refused to let us in his car since we spilled coke on the chairs. And then Theon complained I was fat, so we called Robb. He still refused to let us ride, that stupid git, so Theon and I laid on the roof instead. We almost fell!" Sansa says in one goes then gasps. "I normally don't talk that much. Sorry." She looks out the window then back up at Willas. He was smiling.

"S'okay. You live at Winterfell, right?" She nods and watch as the scenery changes. They enter the busier part of town and stuck in traffic. Willas takes this opportunity to hand her a jacket. She hums thanks and shrugs it on, blushing at the gesture and the warmth.

"How come you were walking alone? Doesn't your brother usually drive you home? I've seen you on the parking lot," he adds hastily, as if afraid to be branded a stalker. She almost giggles at the irony of it all. 

"Not today. Nor yesterday when I, you know, called out horndog." She shrugs, feeling Willas' gaze on her, making her feel warmer still. He's grinning, she could tell by his profile. "Robb's becoming more popular by the minute, usually going out with this girl or going to a place with the guys. Theon could drive me home, but he's Theon who hates driving and has sex like it's going out of style. Arya has a boyfriend now and Jon has a girlfriend too and they usually spend time together."

Then she stops mid-thought and feels sad all of a sudden. She smiles sadly, keeping her eyes on the horizon.

"It sucks you know? Cause Robb has Theon. And even if Theon  _is_ a horndog, he loves Robb more than anything. Jon has Arya too. They're one of a kind. Arya always comes first before me. And even Rickon my baby brother has Bran to hang out with. I'm always the odd one out, ever since we were children except now it's becoming more prominent. And now look where I am! I'm in a car that belongs to a person I met only yesterday and I'm soaking his car seat which might I add looks really expensive and well, I don't know." She exhales and tries to blink back the tears gathering at the corner of her eyes like an army waiting to attack. She feels so embarrassed at that confession and tries to apologize, but Willas speaks up.

"I feel you."

Sansa stares, thrown off. Willas keeps his eyes on the road, but his hands are clutching the steering wheel so hard, his knuckles are turning a pale white.

"My brother, Garlan, often overshadows me. You see, unlike me, he has two pairs of working legs which you know, trumps my one-and-half pair any time. He's father's prized joy, you see and he doesn't even go to St. Brandon's because he's too good for that school, or so my parents say. My sister Margaery is very pretty, isn't she? Mother's attention is usually smothered on her, giving her everything she wants to compensate for her shitty boyfriend Joffrey. And don't even get me started on Loras."

Sansa swallows thickly. She was being a brat. At least her parents loved them all equally. "Sorry, Willas."

"You got nothing to be sorry for, Stark." He looks down and smiles (and there's that goddamn warmth again). They sit in quiet while Sansa curses their house and it's distance from St. Brandon's. Usually it makes for great bonding time with the circus (and an entertaining Stark Show), but now it just makes for awkward silence.

Until Willas turns on the radio. The Beatles is on, and as the familiar opening of Here Comes the Sun washes over the car, Willas grabs her hand.

And she knows that it's the start of a beautiful thing.

* * *

She's still riding the high of the car ride last night until Saturday brunch.

"So, Sansa, I heard Willas drove you home last night!" Arya starts once the grown-ups have left the kitchen.

"Sopping wet, may I add." Theon says with a grin that Sansa now calls the I-will-now-say-vulgar-things look.

"So wet, I soaked the whole chair!" Sansa adds to the general horror of everybody. She stifles laughter as Robb begins to look livid and Jon is busy covering Rickon's ears and Bran's looking from side to side like he can't figure this out.

And so begins another episode of the Stark Show but this time, she has Willas and she doesn't feel left out anymore.


End file.
